


Foxholes

by thegeminisage



Series: Anchor [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Codependency, Cohabitation, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 21:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11906139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegeminisage/pseuds/thegeminisage
Summary: Derek's first day back home.





	Foxholes

**Author's Note:**

> **if you haven't read _anchor_ :** hi! this is a short story taking place in the same continuity as _anchor_ , a longfic about a chris/derek season 4 AU. you probably won't enjoy or understand this very much if you haven't read it, and not to pat myself on the back, but it also has a pretty cool plot twist near the end that i'd hate to ruin for anyone, so i highly suggest you check it out before reading this. it's the first fic in this series, you can't miss it!
> 
>  **if you have read _anchor_ :** hi, welcome back, that was kinda fast, wasn't it? about this thing here: i'm not going to ever write a Real Sequel to _anchor_ , because i think that big story did exactly what it needed to do and closed all the threads that i wanted it to close. but i really surprised myself with how much i liked the place it left chris & derek in—a dynamic totally different from where they started from, and totally different the one that originally drew me to them—but one i enjoy and wanted to explore nonetheless. in that respect, i'll probably wind up publishing post-anchor oneshots from time-to-time. nothing as big or as polished or as dramatic as that original story—it'll probably be minimally edited, mostly freewritten, and not very plotty—but it'll give me a chance to use ideas or concepts i couldn't fit into the original and keep messing around with this continuity in an easy low-stakes way for as long as i want to. 
> 
> that out of the way, here's this! it's admittedly not terribly impressive or coherent and more about derek & laura than derek & chris, but there'll be more on the way eventually. enjoy, i guess! (recommended listening: [aurora - running with the wolves](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w7Z7rLpndh8))

Derek spends his first full moon since achieving the full shift running the preserve.

He doesn't remember Laura's old record—it was jotted down on a scrap of paper stuck to the fridge, and it burned with the rest of that life—but he could never forget the paths their footsteps took, still well-worn trails after all those years gone. He takes the hardest and longest route tonight, the one that begins at the ruins of his old home and makes a wide circle around the edge of the lake before winding up past the lookout point, taking him higher and higher.

The end of the trail is the highest point in Beacon Hills, a little summit not even big enough to be called a mountain. Most hikers don't go up past the lookout point because the view is about the same, and the trail is a hard one when you've only got two legs, but if you want to get as close to the sky as you can, it's the place to be. The rule was always the first to touch the rock near the top was the winner. Derek's not racing anyone tonight but ghosts, but he still pushes himself harder as he gets closer to the end.

It's wonderful to run the trail after so many years; it touches some deep and primal part of him that exists without words, and he finally feels at home again. Derek always wanted to do this with his betas, but the woods were too full of hunters then. Now he has nothing to fear from these trees, even with the bad things that like to lurk in this forest. Derek can outrun anything. No one, nothing, could catch him now.

It's just as amazing as he knew it would be.

It's also sort of lonely.

Derek's paws hit the rock and he howls out of habit before he remembers there's no one to hear him now, no one to complain about getting second place or taunt him about being in second himself. He scrabbles his way to the top and lies down, panting, but there's no one to laugh with, no scent or heartbeat but his own; he's alone. It makes him think of the quiet after the fire, how strange it was that such a horrific act of violence left only silence in its wake.

Derek doesn't want to think of the fire. So he cocks his ears and listens instead. He can hear a little from the town below; music playing in the distance, and the sound of traffic. _This is mine_ , he thinks. Not his to own or rule, the way he thought of it when he was an alpha, but his to protect. And it has nothing to do with who's alpha—this is his birthright. He's responsible for every soul down among those lights. It doesn't scare him: the pack feels the same way, and so does Chris. He's not so alone as this forest makes him feel.

Derek thinks about sleeping there, over his town, but now that he isn't running a certain sense of grief is beginning to catch up to him. He's spent enough nights sleeping in ashes; he might as well go back to the loft.

He glances back one last time as he makes his way back down the trail. He isn't sure why—he knew when he came he was going to be running it by himself—but he expected it to be less lonely than this.

 

* * *

 

It isn't any better at the loft. There's a weird itch under Derek's skin that has nothing to do with the full moon. He's always liked his loft, but tonight it feels big and empty and quiet, and even dropping back into the full shift to pace around doesn't help any.

He curls up in bed to try to sleep, but sleep doesn't come. His bed still smells like Chris, though, and that settles him a little, just because he's used to Chris's scent nearby when they end a day's tracking.

So, yeah: he does know what his problem is. He just doesn't want to admit it.

 

* * *

 

The thing is, Derek's no stranger to codependency. For all the the kids like to take shots at him for not playing well with others and being slow to trust, there is one person Derek let in without question or hesitation: Laura.

It wasn't too bad before the fire. Derek and Laura were the oldest, just over two years apart, and with nearly five years between Derek and Cora, the next oldest, it meant they wound up spending more time together than with any of their other sisters growing up. They took the same classes at school, played the same sports, learned to drive at nearly the same time. Strangers used to mistake them for twins; their parents called them partners in crime. They told each other almost everything; things they couldn't tell their parents, or their friends at school. They were best friends. And for almost-twins, it wasn't a bad way to be.

But after the fire...

There were a few times, right after, when Derek guiltily thought that if he could have picked any one person to have survived it, it would have been Laura, because she was the only person he couldn't live without. No one understood each other the way they did, and if any two Hales had to survive alone in the world, they had the best shot. In the first few weeks they wept near-constantly, sleeping in shifts in the same hotel room in case the hunters came back to finish the job, never apart for longer than an hour or so from the moment Laura's eyes changed colors. They watched their house burn down hand-in-hand; helped each other study the ins-and-outs of managing millions of dollars that were suddenly theirs to give Peter the best care money could buy; met with the lawyer after lawyer to make sure Laura won custody of Derek; they picked out their family's headstones together, they held each other during the funeral; they woke each other up when they had nightmares, held one another down until the thrashing and shouting subsided.

The only thing Derek never told Laura was the truth about Kate. As far as Laura knew, Derek didn't have a clue which hunters set the fire or why, and the only person he'd ever been interested in was Paige. Keeping it a secret beforehand was Kate's idea. Keeping it a secret after was his. It was one of the hardest things he ever did. For years, Laura was the only person he allowed to touch him at all.

Neither Derek nor Laura would have made it through that time without the other. Losing all your family is bad enough for a normal person; when you're a werewolf, and your family is also your pack, it's worse than dying yourself. But all of that time spent together, trusting no one but each other, sharing all that pain and heartache—it really fucked them over when they finally left home for New York.

Part of the reason Laura wanted to go was because it hurt too much to stay. But for their kind home is home, and if that were all, they could have fought through it. The real reason they left was because she didn't think it was safe for them in California anymore. New York, though, was about as far away as you could get while being in the lower forty-eight; that was why they picked it. So it took them both completely by surprise when, clear across the country from the people who had murdered their family, Derek's first day of school in New York ended at the halfway point, when he had to bolt out of the cafeteria and run all the way to the garage to make _absolutely sure_ Laura was okay. Even though he didn't call her, she met him halfway; whatever paranoia hit Derek hit her too. They ran to each other and embraced, weak with relief, as though it had been months, as though their very lives had been at stake, when in reality it had been only four hours and there was never any danger at all.

Four hours was the longest they had spent apart since their family died.

Derek still doesn't know if that's something that happens to normal people in these very abnormal kind of situations, or if it was a werewolf thing. Maybe it was a normal thing exacerbated by the werewolf thing. Either way, it took them almost two weeks to work up to a full seven-hour school day.

Derek wouldn't have bothered—he hated walking into classrooms, especially when the door was closed behind him—but she insisted. In turn, he made her go to work five days a week even though they didn't need the money. No checking out for either of them, no matter how badly they wanted to: it would be leaving the other all alone.

It never went away, though. Laura usually swung by during his lunch break, and he worked with her in the garage after school instead of joining the local basketball team. They lived in a studio apartment for the entire six years they spent in New York, two beds and their kitchen and living space all in one room, and it never once felt cramped, even when Laura smoked inside and left wolf hair on the furniture, both of which Derek always hated. Neither of them dated, even though Laura always had lots of girlfriends and boyfriends back home. And they lived like that, jumping at shadows, in one tiny room, holding each other up and stubbornly pulling each other forward, for six years.

The only thing Laura never told _Derek_ was why she was leaving town, and why she wouldn't let him go with her. His best guess now is the spiral on the deer must have really scared her, to want to protect Derek so badly she was willing to go days at a time without seeing him. But she couldn't stop him from following her, just two nights later, six hours after she stopped answering texts.

Couldn't stop him from finding her, even though she was already dead.

It would have hurt less if Peter had torn _him_ in half instead.

 

* * *

 

It isn't nearly so bad with Chris. They were together 24/7 for an entire month, yes, took every meal together, slept near one another, woke each other from nightmares. And they did save each other's lives multiple times, and they both shared a lot of deep, secret pain (for as long as he lives, Derek will never forget the horror on Chris's face when he let himself remember how Riley really died). But it was only one month, not six years. Nobody they loved actually died unless you count Kate, and Derek's certainly not grieving for her—if Chris is, he hasn't shown it yet. Derek's not flying into a panic from not seeing Chris since he left the loft this morning, and he's not—Chris isn't family, he's not _pack_.

Derek pauses to reconsider. Scott's the alpha. Scott likes, trusts, _and_ relies on Chris, so actually he probably is pack. Wonderful.

Still: it isn't that bad, and Derek has no intention of letting it get worse. What would he even do, call him? They've never really called each other, especially after they began hunting Kate, because they spent all their time together. Never apart for more than an hour or so, never further away than shouting distance could cover. Text him? Derek is bad at texting. He has no idea what he'd open with. It sure as hell wouldn't be _I kind of miss having you around_ , no matter how true that is.

Derek isn't even sure he still has his number. He has so much trouble holding onto phones he almost never saves contacts.

Derek just doesn't deal well with change, that's all. He doesn't know how they're going to work now that they aren't out tracking Kate in the middle of nowhere—when they'll see each other, where, how often. Once he figures it out, he'll settle. He just has to wait it out.

Besides...

This is all completely one-sided. It's not like Laura meeting him halfway between the garage and school. Derek's the only werewolf here, so it's probably a werewolf thing after all. When Chris wants to see or talk to Derek, he'll do it. Until then, Derek's not going to be weird about it.

He'll go for another run, he decides, getting out of bed again. Running always calms him down. Eventually he'll run enough to knock himself out. Even werewolves have to sleep sometime.

Derek pulls the door to his loft open, and comes face-to-face with a raised fist.

He jerks back, but it's just Chris, looking as startled to see Derek as Derek is to see him. Derek must have been so distracted he didn't notice his scent or heartbeat. His alarm, of course, is still broken.

"Hi," Chris says, jamming his hands in his pockets. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, I've just had a hell of a day and I was hoping—" He clears his throat. "Sorry," he says again, "I should have called, I know, but—it's a little weird, isn't it?"

Derek ducks his head to hide his laugh, a dangerous warmth filling his chest. "A little," he admits. "Do you...want to come in?"

Chris lets out a breath of relief; gives Derek an unsteady smile. "I'd love to."

**Author's Note:**

> (this isn't a great title so don't be shocked if it changes later - i guess if anything it refers to the close-quarters and high-stress situations derek found himself in with these two people.)
> 
> anyway, as always, you can find me blogging about these guys [@thedegenerateasexual](http://thedegenerateasexual.tumblr.com). i have [a tag specifically for this 'verse](http://thepornwritingasexual.tumblr.com/tagged/anchor) and [another for this ship](http://thepornwritingasexual.tumblr.com/tagged/dargent) if those are in your areas of interest. thanks for reading!


End file.
